The problem with low-income housing in the United States has long been the housing itself. Impersonal, poorly built, high-density "projects" feel more like a punishment to the people who live in them than a gesture of support. Carelessly designed, ill-maintained high-rises soon begin to perpetuate the cycle of poverty instead of helping to break it. And most of the country's homeless would rather sleep on the street than in the so-called shelters provided for their use.

But a new crop of architects have come along to challenge the unacceptable status quo. Not only do they believe that housing for the homeless and for low-income families and individuals should be aesthetically pleasing, they think it should be healthy, too—and an increasing number of cities are beginning to put up modern, morale-building residences that also adhere to the best principles of green construction.

"Just because they aren't privileged," says architect Lawrence Scarpa of Santa Monica's Pugh + Scarpa, "doesn't mean the poor should be deprived of good design."

The movement is most visible in California, thanks to the state's strict Title 24 regulations, which were created by the California Energy Commission to set statewide efficiency standards in new construction. Pugh + Scarpa's Broadway Court project in Santa Monica exceeds those greening regulations by 30 percent. The 41 units house formerly homeless individuals, who now enjoy whimsical design and spacious apartments that range from 820 to 1,050 square feet. The construction utilizes dual-ventilation, low-VOC products and an elaborate network of shades and canopies that help control climate and add a sculptural element to the exterior. "Much of this population's income goes to utilities," Scarpa says, "so it's even more important to make the buildings energy-efficient."

The Plaza Apartments in San Francisco, by Leddy Maytum and Stacy Architects, are another example of California's initiatives in action. "I'm pretty sure that if there were more places like this, people would come in and try to do things differently," says resident Henry Belton, who once lived on the streets for a 13-year stretch. When he moved into the Plaza at its opening two years ago, Belton finally got a much-needed feeling of permanency. He's been such a success story that he was recently appointed by the mayor to the city's Shelter Monitoring Committee. "It gives me the sense of being responsible for the first time," he says. "All those years, I was sleeping in doorways. I've slept in every men's shelter in the city. Now I'm inspecting those same facilities for the commission."

The problem with traditional shelters is that they provide only one night's lodging, and then people are back on the streets. In San Francisco, a studio apartment costs upwards of $1,500 a month: Double that sum is required for an initial deposit. For the destitute, many of whom are also plagued with drug addictions and psychological problems, this amount is unfathomable. The 106 units at the Plaza cost only $380 to $440 per month.

"They didn't want another cheap-looking stucco box," says architect Richard Stacy, "so our challenge was to create something new and of higher quality that still fit within a certain budget. Our approach was to take the materials inherent to the building anyway and use them as design elements. For example, we used concrete as a kind of outer finish, accented with colored resin panels to give the building its modern look." The photovoltaic roof that generates much of the building's electricity also adds to its modern aesthetic. "There's an idea that low-income people won't appreciate high design, but I disagree with that completely, " Stacy says.

And because the new housing looks better, neighborhoods are not nearly as averse to accepting it as they have been in the past. The new wave of low-income housing attempts to improve not only the lives of the formerly homeless but the vitality of their new neighborhoods as well.

Los Angeles, known for its excessive sprawl, is also undergoing a movement to revitalize the inner city. "L.A. has been the poster child for unsustainability, but the focus is changing radically," says architect Michael Maltzan, whose firm completed the Rainbow Apartments, for homeless people, and is now constructing the New Carver Apartments, for elderly homeless. The two buildings were commissioned by Skid Row Housing Trust, a nonprofit that takes its name from the area, which Maltzan says is a largely forgotten section of downtown with much underutilized space. "For me, it's about imagining the future of the city," Maltzan says. "Areas like Skid Row are very crucial to what this city is going to look like in 10, 20 and 30 years."

Besides using sunshades to harness utility costs and single-loaded corridors (with all doors on one side of the hallway), which increase ventilation and give easy access to the central courtyard, both of Maltzan's buildings enhance the city's landscape. The white-and-red sunshades create a visual treat as you pass by, akin to flipping the pages of a book. And the renderings for the New Carver Apartments show a biomorphic circular design, each apartment a leaf overlapping the next. The round shape reduces the building's proximity to the highway and deflects the sound, Maltzan explains. But at the same time, the building mimics the motion of the cars as they go down the ramp, so it feels like the building is moving with you. "I think if you imagine that cities are very much made up of the map of their icons, then cities are mostly amalgamations of corporate offices, churches, schools, etc.," says Maltzan. "I think projects like this should be part of that map."

New Orleans is also pursuing sustainability in its low-income development. Drew Lang, of the New York-based Lang Architecture, grew up in New Orleans. The firm's colossal Faubourg St. Roch project will build new green structures and retrofit older houses throughout a nine-block radius, which includes 139 house lots in the historic marketplace. It was an area of poverty before Katrina, and now the community is without the most basic commercial and social services. "In New Orleans, the biggest challenges we have are the problems that have been going on for a long time—fundamental things like drainage problems and failing infrastructure—and that's where these sustainable building technologies are going to come into play," says Lang. "We want to incorporate the rich history of the area. We're trying to write the next chapter by doing things differently but still trying to preserve and revitalize what's there."

As Chicago architect Susan King of the firm Harley Ellis Devereaux points out, while it's hard to secure funding for these types of projects, the development community has embraced an unprecedented camaraderie when it comes to green. She designed Wentworth Commons for the firm. Its 51 units are inhabited by a mix of formerly homeless families and individuals. Solar panels, perched at acute angles with the roof, cast a fanciful feel to Wentworth; it's a far cry from the monotonous low-income projects of the old days. King remembers a recent program aimed at teaching kids to take care of plants on the grounds. At the meeting a precocious child raised his hand and spouted the statistic that the panels provide 25 percent of the building's energy. Anecdotes like that make it clear: This new housing movement is a significant force for change.